Fighting Back
by Princess-of-Your-Doom95
Summary: a tribute to those who died in 9/11. A small story about Flight 93. Not much American Dad happens here, this is an OC story. I suck at summaries
1. Prologue

**Hello readers that read my stories for some reason :P**

**I have been having writers block on my other stories so I decided to take a break. **

**I wrote this as a tribute to those who suffered in the tragedy of 9/11. I am NOT making fun of it. That would be disrespectful.**

**This is about the story of Flight 93, which never reached its target.**

**I do not own American Dad, and I will say this...there will not be much American Dad in it at all. There will be a little, not a lot.**

**Well enjoy and please review**

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><p><strong>Prologue<strong>

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><p>It was just a simple relocation. Not that hard!<p>

I never thought in a million years that I, Isabella Jefferson, would face death on a simple relocation mission!

Maybe I should start from the beginning.

My name is Isabella Maria Jefferson and I'm 16 years old. I have blonde shoulder length hair and golden eyes, and I don't wear contacts to make them that way.

I weigh about 110 pounds and am about 5 foot even. The perfect weight and size to hide in places a normal spy can't.

Did I mention I am an international spy and assassin?

Oops, that's kind of important...

When I was a newborn baby, a CIA agent disguised as a doctor told my parents that I was a still born. Then he took my not dead body to the New Jersey CIA headquarters.

I grew up in that place, learning all of it's secrets. I could go into any blocked off room without being caught.

The scientists and agents were my family and they helped me learn everything I wanted to know. Nothing was kept from me.

When I was seven, I was put through intense training. I learned how to silently break into houses, how to crack complex codes, and how to throw a knife from 50 feet away.

By the time I was thirteen, I was an intense killing machine.

It was on my 14th birthday that I was finally sent out on search and destroy missions.

That's right, I've killed people. And I have a better killing rate than most agents, try 100%

Anyways, I made a little slip up on a murder mission so the cops were on my ass. So the CIA decided to send me to it's sister base in San Francisco, California.

It was so simple! Pack only what you need, get past security, board the plane, sit there, and when you get into San Francisco wait for the agents to find me.

Not hard, right?

WRONG!

Things tend to get difficult when your plane gets hijacked by terrorists.

I think it's about time our story begins...

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><p><strong>Sorry it's really short, I don't want this to be a really long thing. I may only write like 5 chapters, not even that.<strong>

**Once again I would like to say that I am NOT making fun of 9-11. If anyone even suggests that I am, well..just don't.**

**Comments are required. I refuse to post another chapter until I get at least 5 reviews.  
>And you must include one positive and one negative thing. I want your opinions on how to improve.<strong>


	2. Chapter 1

**Ok, so I didn't get my 5 reviews. But, I'm kind of eager to get this rolling, so I'm being nice :D**

**I have nothing else to saw...so here you go**

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><p><strong>Chapter 1<strong>

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><p>"Why can't I stay here? I mean you let Jackson stay when he got caught!" I protest to my guardian of the week.<p>

"Izzy, you aren't supposed to exist. There are no records of you, remember? If we let you stay, the cops will ask questions." Mr. Smith tells me.

I hang my head in shame. I had forgotten about that. Sometimes being a CIA spy has it's disadvantages.

"But...but...but I can't just leave. This is my home." I protest weakly.

"I know, sweetie. This place won't be the same with you gone. But just think, you'll get to go to a regular high school when you get to San Francisco." Mr. Smith says, attempting to cheer me up.

I smile softly, I had never been to school before. Especially not with other teens my age!

I grab my duffel bag and put in 2 sets of clothes as well as pjs. I also add my toiletries to the bag. Then I start shoving memories into it. I packed my diary, my camera, my tiger doll, and a scrapbook. I also added my set of ninja tools.

My ninja tools are what I carry with me on missions. They include 4 pocket knives, a couple screwdrivers, and a dagger that I got for my 6th birthday.

"Ok, I'm done packing." I announce as I zip up my bag.

"That was fast, are you sure that's everything?" my guardian asks me.

I nod my head. "Yeah, I can always get new clothes in California." I tell him.

"Alright, we need to start heading to the airport." Mr. Smith tells me, taking my bag.

I follow him, only pausing to take one last look at my room.

I quickly catch up with Mr. Smith. As we pass by, I wave goodbye to the men practicing their shooting. They wave back sadly.

We pass the weight room and the pool, everyone is sad to see me go. It makes me feel loved to know just how upset people are to see me leave.

"Izzy! Hold on!" a voice cries out as Mr. Smith and I draw closer to the front doors.

I turn around and see the boys from the lab all assembled in a group.

"What's up guys?" I ask cheerfully, as if I'm not leaving possibly forever.

"We have some gifts for you." Seth says.

Alex nods. "We were saving them for your birthday, but now is a good time too." He says sadly.

Larry, Jared, and Zach each hold out a colorful box with ribbons on top.

I take the pink box from Larry, pulling off the blue ribbon, which I tuck in my pocket, I look inside.

I pull out a small metal box with a red button on it.

"What is it?" I ask, looking at my present cautiously.

"Well you can't take a motorcycle on a plane, so we made you a portable ride." Alex says proudly.

I press the red button and a holographic screen pops out, displaying different types of transportation.

I click the skateboard and the box jumps out of my hand, and shifts into a black skateboard with purple spiders.

"OMG! That is so cool!" I shriek, picking up the board.

"To make it go back to the box, just press the button again." Larry tells me, pointing to the button.

I press it and the box collapses. I put the box in my shoulder bag along with my cell phone and backup dagger.

Zach then holds out his neon green box with a purple ribbon. I also put this ribbon in my pocket.

This time the gift is a small round tube with a blue button.

"What is this one?" I ask.

Seth presses the button and a holographic screen pops out again, but this one is a bunch of weapons instead of rides.

I press on the sword and the tube transforms into the sword.

"Sweetness!" I say pressing the blue button, the sword turns back into the tube and I put it in my shoulder bag.

Jared holds out a blue box with a green ribbon. I put the ribbon in my pocket along with the others, and pull out two things.

The first thing is a picture of everyone at the CIA. This was the pic taken at the CIA Annual Picnic.

I look closely and see me standing next to Alex and Zach.

I look at the second item and pull out a watch.

"Its a disguise watch." Jared explains. "Just turn the outer dial to what you want and then press the glass."

I strap it onto my right wrist and turn the outer dial. A screen pops up and shows a pick of a nightclub minidress, I press the glass and am suddenly wrapped up in a flash of light.

When the light dies down, I am shocked to see myself in a minidress.

"Cool." I say as I turn my clothes back to my normal skinny jeans, army boots, and ninja t-shirt.

"So, do you like them?" Larry asks me.

"Like them? I freaking LOVE them!" I squeal like a girl who just got a new pair of shoes. Yep, weapons and spy gadgets are my new shoes.

I give each scientist a big hug and a kiss on the cheek.

"We need to get going, Izzy." Mr. Smith says sadly.

I take a deep breath and sadly nod.

"You take care of her, Stan." Zach tells my guardian.

Mr. Smith nods and we both exit the CIA. We approach a black car and I hop into the passenger seat.

As Mr. Smith drives out of the parking lot, I tuck the CIA picture into my bag.

I then pull out a couple of letters and place them on the storage center thing between the passenger and driver seats.

"What are those?" Mr. Smith asks me.

"Letters to Steve, Hayley, and Roger. Can you give them to them please?" I ask.

Mr. Smith nods and looks at the road sadly. "We're all going to miss you, kiddo." He tells me.

I play with a string that had unraveled from my shirt. "I'm going to miss you all too. If only I had made sure to drug the guy! Then he couldn't have fought back and escaped!" I say angrily.

Mr. Smith looks at me angrily. "Don't beat yourself up. You thought you could take him down easily, an honest mistake. We need to remember that you're a 16 year old girl and not a full grown man."

We both go silent as we get closer to the airport, which is now in sight.

I look over to Mr. Smith, the man who gladly took me in whenever he could. He practically jumped at the chance to bring me home.

Not only were we close friends, but I got along with his wife, kids, talking goldfish, and his secret alien.

"I'm going to miss you so much, Mr. Smith." I say tearfully.

"Call me Stan, kiddo. We talked about that." He reminds me with a ghost of a smile.

We pull up into the airport parking lot. I grab my bag and unbuckle my seatbelt. Hopping out of the car, I throw my bag around my shoulder and walk over to Stan.

"Come on, we need to get you checked in and on the plane. It takes off in ten minutes." Stan says looking at his watch.

"What about my weapons?" I ask worriedly. "I need to keep my weapons!"

"We are CIA agents, I can get you on the plane without having to go through security." Stan assures me, placing a hand on my shoulder.

We walk into the airport and everyone is hurrying to get on their flights.

"What flight am I again?" I ask as I keep a death grip on my shoulder bag and duffel bag.

"United Flight 93." Stan tells me, taking me over to the metal detectors.

Stan flashes his CIA badge and I hand my bags to the guard. Through the detector I go.

The guard hands me my bags, not even looking throughout them. Stan winks at me and we continue to the gates.

We go to gate 93 and I turn to Stan, he can't come with me.

"I'm going to miss you." I sob as I hug him.

Stan hugs me tightly and pets my head. "Call me as soon as you land, ok?"

"Promise." I respond, letting go.

"_**Flight 93 is two minutes from taking off."**_ the intercom says.

I grab my bags and bolt for the door. I hurry towards the plane, I made it into the metal machine before the door was closed.

I smile at the attendant and make my way towards the front of the plane. The CIA reserves a row of seats just for me, mainly because I hate strange people.

I put my duffel bag away in the storage units above me and settle down in my seat, keeping my shoulder bag on me.

Buckling my seatbelt, I await for take off.

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><p><strong>I would like to thank Molly's are awesome and The Cullens of Death Metal. You both were my first reviews :D<strong>

**As always I am NOT making fun of 9/11.**

**Please review, I would enjoy 1 good thing and 1 bad thing about my story. I would like to know what I can improve on. :D**


	3. Chapter 2

**I was bored so here is an update...even though nobody reviewed.  
>Whatever, I will keep updating wether I get reviews or not. I already have all of this written, it's just waiting for posting.<strong>

**Anyway, here you go**

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><p><strong>Chapter 2<strong>

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><p>We had only been in the air for twenty minutes when my danger sense went off.<p>

I snap open my eyes, which I had closed during takeoff, and look around.

Everyone was doing their own thing; reading books, listening to music, crosswords, chatting with their neighbors...nothing out of the ordinary, but something was still wrong.

I turn around in my seat and looked at farther back passengers. I immediately notice a couple foreign people. Of course this is normal, but the ones I immediately notice looked Arabian...maybe Indian...

Shrugging my shoulders, I turn back around and dig out my MP3 player.

"Can I get you anything, miss?" a flight attendant asks before I am able to put my headphones in.

"Pop, preferably Coke or Pepsi. If you don have any, I'll take ice water." I reply quickly.

The attendant nods and goes to get my drink. I stick my headphones in my ears and start to rock out to Marilyn Manson.

I fall asleep before I even get my drink.

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><p>I wake up mentally before I open my eyes.<p>

Rule 1 of being a spy. Act like your still asleep and listen before deciding to open your eyes.

Sadly I still had my headphones in, so this rule doesn't apply right now.

I open my eyes and take out my headphones. My danger sense goes off and I immediately notice the aura has changed from calm to panicked.

I look around and notice a guy standing in front of me, blocking off the cockpit. In his hand he has a box cutter knife and what appears to be a detonator.

"What are you doing?" I ask him.

He looks at me and points the knife at me. "Quiet!" he yells at me, before going to the cockpit.

I turn around to the woman behind me. "What's going on?" I ask her.

"They took over the plane. They killed the pilots and they say they have a bomb." the woman whispers. I can tell she's pee your pants scared right now.

"How long ago?"

"About ten minutes ago." the woman whispers.

"How long has it been since we took off?"

"About an hour and a half, why?" she asks me. Her voice indicates she might start crying.

Ok, so I was out a good hour and ten minutes...

I notice people are starting to make calls on their phones. Seeing them gives me an idea.

I dig through my shoulder bag and pull out my phone. I put in my password and call Stan.

"Izzy? You can't have landed yet." the voice says.

"I haven't, just listen. About ten minutes ago the plane was hijacked. I've only seen one guy, but he has a knife and a detonator. Someone told me that the hijackers said they have a bomb on the plane." I tell him in a low voice.

"Hijacked? I'll call the airplane main control center." Stan tells me, he sounds really panicked.

Guess he should, not only am I on this plane, but this is a case of national security.

"You do that, I'll gather more info...Stan?"

"Yeah, Isabella?"

"If...if I...tell everyone I love them, ok?" I say sadly, I doubt I will live.

"You can tell them yourself after we rescue you and the other passengers." he tells me firmly.

I smile at him, even though he can't see me. Always optimistic, even when lives are at stake.

I say one more goodbye, promising to call back in half an hour, before hanging up.

The guy with the detonator comes out from the cockpit and watches us. I study the guy carefully, he looks no more than 17.

I can hear the other passengers whispering to their neighbors and to people on the other sides of their phones.

"Hey!" I yell loudly at the guy. Everyone quiets immediately and I undo my seatbelt and stand up.

"Sit!" the guy yells at me.

I cross my arms and glare at him. "Why are you doing this?" I ask...well more like demand.

"Sit!" he yells at me again. His tone says if I don't, he will hurt me.

"Make me." I say playfully.

The guy lunges at me with his knife, but I duck to the left. Hopping on my seat, I run behind him. He is now trapped between me and the wall.

He lunges again and I try to run down the aisle but he anticipated this and throws the stupid box cutter at me, successfully lodging it in my left arm.

"Shit!" I scream. "Son of a bitch!"

"Què cony està passant aquí?" a rough voice shouts out. **(What the fuck is going on here?)**

I know that language, I must have studied it for over a year.

The person looks older than Mr. I-Throw-Box-Cutters-at-People. He also looks like he wouldn't hesitate to harm someone.

"La noia em va atacar!" my attacker shouts at the other one. **(The girl attacked me!)**

"Oh diables, no! Només em va preguntar què diables estava passant! I perquè consti, em va atacar!" I shout out. I cringe at my harsh accent but it does the trick. **(Oh hell no! I only asked what the fuck was going on! And for the record, he attacked me!)**

"You...you...speak...Arabic?" my attacker says slowly, sounding out the English words.

I pull the knife from my arm, swiftly I cut off a long strip of my shirt. I toss the knife back to the young one and hold out the strip to the older one.

"Lligui està al voltant del tall, agradable i atapeït.." I tell him. **(Tie this around the cut, nice and tight.)**

Surprisingly he does as I say. He ties the bandage around my wound nice and tight.

Then both of them leave. Not a word, nothing. They just leave.

I turn and walk down the aisle, but not before I check to make sure my shoulder bag was ok...it was.

I walk and sit next to a lone male teenager and across from a woman.

"Any word from the ground?" I ask them.

"Nothing really." the woman tells me.

I nod and pull out my phone, dialing Stan again.

"Stan? It's Izzy." I say quickly.

"Izzy, it's awful! Just awful!" Stan says sadly. I can't tell if he's crying or not.

"What happened?"

"Two planes crashed into the Twin Towers." he tells me.

"Planes?" I ask quickly. Now I'm getting scared.

"Yes, planes. The planes were used as bombs." he says, now he is definitely crying.

"I'll call you back." I say before hanging up, not even saying goodbye.

"What is it?" the boy next to me asks.

"It's the planes...the planes are the bombs..." I say in shock.

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><p><strong>Cliffhanger! I hate cliffhangers! But I'm evil and shall make you wait.<strong>

**As always I am NOT making fun of 9/11.**

**And again, as always please review 1 good thing and 1 bad thing about my story. I'm eager to hear what you have to say.**


	4. Chapter 3

**Still only 2 reviews, shame.**

**Oh well, here you are.**

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><p><strong>Chapter 3<strong>

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><p>"What do you mean?" the woman asks me.<p>

"I just talked to a fellow agent, two planes crashed into the Twin Towers." I tell them. "You should pass it around."

I begin walking back up front. I am stopped by a man who has his phone.

"Are you the one who got the knife in the arm?" he asks.

I hold out my bloody arm, and his eyes widen. "I just got news that a plane hit the Pentagon." he tells me.

I hurry up to the front, not bothering to listen to anymore. I turn and face everyone, my hands on my hips.

"Listen up!" I shout. Everyone looks at me with full attention. "Two planes hit the Twin Towers and another hit the Pentagon. Now this is just a guess, but I think the next target is the White House."

Everyone looks scared.

"What does that mean?" someone shouts.

"It means that we are going to die." I shout sadly.

People begin bursting into tears, hugging each other, or holding onto themselves.

"Calm down! Now I won't let these people hurt my country anymore!" I shout again. "I suggest you make any final goodbyes and if you are willing to fight back, move towards the attendant area. Those who won't need to move up front."

Just then Mr. Knife Thrower comes back into the passenger section. He sees me standing in front of everyone and gives a cry of outrage.

He grabs my hair and attempts to pull me back to the cockpit, but I flip him over my shoulder.

While he is on the ground, I quickly straddle his hips and hold his wrists above his head.

"Em alliberi d'una vegada, puta!" he screams at me. **(Release me at once, you whore!)**

I raise my eyebrows at him. "Talk English, you low life piece of trash. I know you can."

His eyes widen and his body relaxes in defeat. "What do you want?" he asks me in perfect English.

"How long before we hit the target?" I ask bluntly, yep that's me. Always straight to the point.

"A couple hours." he answers.

I feel uncomfortable so I look up and see everyone staring at us. I quickly stand up and grab the guy by the collar, hauling him to his feet.

"Follow me." I demand as I make my way to the small airplane bathroom.

I shove him inside and following behind him, I turn and lock the door.

"Who are you and why are you doing this?" I ask, not even turning around.

The guy sighs and sits on the toilet seat, holding his head in his hands. "My name is Xander Saunders. I was born in Arabia but raised in the U.S." he tells me.

"So why are you helping them?" I ask turning to him.

"On my 17th birthday, they killed my family and took me hostage. If I don't do this job...they might kill me." he says sadly.

"You do realize what they're doing, right?"

His look clearly says no.

"The plane will be crashed into a target, killing everyone." I say shrugging.

He stands quickly, his eyes widen in disbelief. "Lies! They...they wouldn't let us die...would they?"

"Two planes crashed in to the World Trade Center and another into the Pentagon." I tell him.

He quickly unlocks the door and races down the aisle. I follow him and watch as he runs into the cockpit.

Xander begins yelling at the two people piloting the plane. "Anem a morir? ¿Va a xocar aquest pla?" **(Are we going to die? Are you going to crash this plane?)**

The pilots look at each other sadly.

"Sí Anem a morir." One says. **(Yes. We will die.)**

Xander give out a cry of horror. "Aterrar l'avió!" he screams. **(Land the plane!)**

"Aterratge de l'avió no era la nostra ordres." the other says. **(Landing the plane was not our orders.)**

"No m'importa el que Ussama bin Laden va ordenar! Em nego a morir, així que aterrar l'avió!" Xander shrieks. **(I don't care what Osama bin Laden ordered! I refuse to die, so land the plane!)**

I can just tell they will argue until the end of our flight, so I leave the room.

"Hey! Knife girl!" someone shout whispers.

I head over to the guy from before, the one who asked about my arm. "What?" I ask him.

"We decided you are right. We need to fight these people and save millions." he says.

"Good for you. What's the plan?" I ask him, intrigued.

"We will ambush them and land the plane." a woman says proudly.

I smile. "Great plan, anybody know how to pilot this thing?"

Their eye widen and I face palm myself. "You didn't think about that part?"

"Can you?" the teenage boy from before asks me.

"Nope, I wasn't allowed to learn flying at the CIA until I had my drivers license." I say, forgetting the fact I'm a spy.

"CIA? What were you doing there?" the man asks.

_Shit! There goes my cover! Oh well, we will probably all die anyways..._

"None of your concern, just leave any fighting to me." I tell him, pulling my weapon generator from my shoulder bag.

I press the button and it transforms into a blow dart gun. Everyone looks at it shocked.

"What? I can't use a real gun! That might make us crash!" I say in my defense.

Xander walks up to me and pulls me aside.

"They won't land us." he tells me.

"Well duh!" I tell him. "If I was given a mission from my superior, I wouldn't stop just because some rookie begged me to."

_Seriously! How stupid is this guy?_

"What are we going to do?" the teenage boy asks me.

Xander's eyes narrow at the guy, who looks totally pee yourself scared.

"Looks like someone's jealous!" I sing out in an annoying voice.

They both look at me like I'm crazy, and to be honest I probably am.

"I am not jealous of this guy!" Xander protests.

"Whatever, just know that I support you no matter what." I tell him, I stick my tongue out at him and laugh. "Ok, now we need to find someone to fly the plane."

"Miss?" a female voice asks.

I turn and see a pretty young woman no more than twenty years old.

"What?" I ask her.

"I hear you need a pilot, well that man up there said he could." the woman said.

Xander and I exchange a glance and race towards the man the woman pointed out.

I grab the man's shoulder. "You can fly the plane?" I ask him urgently.

"Yes ma'am. I used to be a fighter pilot in my youth." the man says.

"So if we can get you up there, you can fly?" Xander asks.

The man nods and I change my blow dart into a dagger.

"Let's do this." I say grinning evilly.

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><p><strong>Cliffhangers are awesome :P<strong>

**I am NOT making fun of 9/11, just letting you know.**

**As always please leave one good thing and one bad thing about my story.**


	5. Chapter 4

**Hey peoples. ****Here is chapter 4.**

**Thanks you Adventurgal for your review. This is for you.**

**Warning - I do NOT own American Dad...just thought I should say that.**

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><p><strong>Chapter 4<strong>

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><p>I gave Xander my spare dagger from my duffel bag and we both sneak towards the cockpit.<p>

Xander suddenly grabs my elbow and pulls me towards him, crushing his lips against mine.

When he pulls away, I am starry eyed.

"What was that for?" I ask the ex-terrorist.

"I didn't want to leave this life without having my first kiss." he says simply.

"Don't worry, you'll live to have more kisses." I assure him.

"Què creus que estàs fent?" the older guy from before yells at us, seeing my dagger. **(What do you think you're doing?)**

I give a scream and try to slash him with my weapon. He dodges and cut my face with his box cutter.

Xander gives a battle cry and pushes the man down, trying to hit his face.

"Get to the pilots, I'll take care of this guy!" another passenger screams, pushing Xander off the guy.

I run towards the cockpit, Xander and our backup pilot following me.

I burst into the room, startling the pilots. One of them cries and pushes the piloting control to the right.

As I am flung into the wall, I notice the pilots have seat belts on.

"Shit! Xander, they have seatbelts on!" I yell.

The pilots turn the wheel to the left. Planning this I fling my weight to the left as well and stab one of them in the chest before slamming into the wall face first.

The pilot clutches his chest and screams in pain, before taking a final breath.

The other begins tilting the plane in a crash course with the ground. Xander and I jump him and try to get him out of the chair. Xander is hitting him as I try to unbuckle him.

Getting an idea, I jump into the guy's lap and mash our lips together. The guy responded immediately and failed to notice me undo his seatbelt. When it's undone I pull back and headbutt the guy, knocking him out.

What I didn't realize was the fact we were only a few feet away from the ground.

Xander grabs my arm and drags me out of the cockpit, but we didn't get far before we hit the ground.

"Xander!" I scream as I'm flung away from him by the force of the impact.

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><p><strong>Cliffhanger! Why do I like cliffhangers so much?<strong>

**As always I am NOT making fun of 9/11.**

**Please review. I have decided to give up the 1 good/1 bad thing because nobody is doing it, so whatever.**


	6. Epilogue

**Well this is it, the final chapter. Sorry I forgot to mention it last chapter.**

**I hope you have enjoyed my American Dad tale minus the American Dad :D**

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><p><strong>Epilogue<strong>

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><p><strong>Two Years Later<strong>

"Where are we going?" a girl asks her boyfriend as she is lead blindly by her hand. The boy laughs and stops them.

"Okay, take off the blindfold." he tells her.

She reaches up and removes the black cloth. Opening her amber eyes, she is met with a familiar sight.

"W-what are we doing here?" she asks, her voice trembling as she subconsciously rubs a scar on her arm.

The boy flinches at seeing the scar. He takes her hand and leads her to the hole in the fence surrounding the area.

"Well, this is where I first met you. It's also where I first fell in love with you, and now..." the boy trails off as he bends down on one knee.

The girl's eyes widen and the boy can't help but gaze at her lovingly as he realizes how gorgeous she is in the moonlight.

"Izzy? Will you marry me?"

"Oh, Xander! Yes!" Isabella cries as she flings herself around her neck.

Xander smiles and wraps his arms around his ex-spy girlfriend. He kisses her gently on the lips. "Let's go home." he tells her softly.

"I'll catch up to you in a minute,ok?" she tells him. Xander nods and makes his way to the car.

Izzy turns and looks at the remains of the crash site from two years ago.

Somehow she and Xander had lived and escaped the plane without more than a few broken bones, cuts, and a concussion on Xander's part. Not that Izzy was upset about living, it just made her wonder how she and Xander managed to live while everyone else had died.

Before even escaping the plane, Isabella had limped and grabbed her bag. She couldn't leave her life behind. Once out of the plane she and Xander had run into the nearest town, not stopping once to rest. Xander insisted upon it, he couldn't be caught or he would face jail time with no bail.

Isabella had come up with a clever and tearful story about how she and Xander had been kidnapped. The hospital ate it up and treated them both.

Using the vehicle generator that Isabella had, they drove to Massachusetts and enrolled in the high school of a small town.

Together they bought a rundown two-story house with money sent to them from Stan, who was overjoyed to hear Izzy was ok and more than happy to agree to keep her secret of being alive.

They fixed up the house and lived together for six months before Xander finally asked Isabella to be his girlfriend. Of course she excepted, especially after realizing how much they had in common.

They still had fights and sometimes the fights would get out of hand because of the fighting skills the couple possessed.

Despite all of that and the fact Xander tried to beat up any guy that talked to Izzy...they were a great couple.

Isabella smiled sadly at the wreckage. "I'm sorry you had to lose your lives just so I could have my happily ever after." she said before running over to the car and fiancé that waited for her.

**The End.**


End file.
